


I Want It  Real         (MORTY Personality Disorder)

by AnonymosityAnnie



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Forced Incest, M/M, MPD, Mental Illness, Morty kills Rick, Morty snaps, Multiple Personality Disorder, No Escape, Rick DOES exist, Rick Sanchez/ Morty Smith - Freeform, Rick abuses Morty, Rick and Morty - Freeform, Rick never existed?, Slash Fiction, ass fucking, dick sucking, violent rape, young/ old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymosityAnnie/pseuds/AnonymosityAnnie
Summary: Rick and Morty share an inexplicable psychic connection, leading to Rick’s realization that Morty has a reoccurring dream wherein Rick brutally rapes him over and over again... and Morty WANTS it.This is a very rough draft, prematurely posted to ensure it doesn’t get lost in the mix until I’ve smoothed things out.... That said, mind the gaps.





	I Want It  Real         (MORTY Personality Disorder)

Morty heard Rick before he _saw_ ANYTHING, eyes struggling to adjust as they slowly opened to take in the sight of him- seemingly aglow from the dimly lit hallway beyond his bedroom door.

“You were _dreaming_ again.” He whispered, quietly closing the door behind him before crossing the room to climb up onto the bed with the kid.

“Ahem...” Morty cleared his throat awkwardly, trembling as the man threw a leg over his covered hips and lowered himself down onto an increasingly anxious young erection. “p-PRIVACY, Rick? Ever heard of it?”

“You dream too fucking _loud_ to bitch about privacy, Morty.” He muttered evenly. “I heard you moaning my n-name. In my HEAD, no less. Kinda hard to tune that shit out in the middle of the fucking night, yanno?”

“So DISCONNECT!”

“I _told_ you, Morty.” Rick hissed- grinding down on him a little harder and barely suppressing a groan when he felt Morty unconsciously arch his hips up into him in turn, hard lengths pressing together through the covers. “I can’t just ‘DISCONNECT’.

If I could, I _WOULD_.”

It had been a few weeks since Morty first became aware of the inexplicable “psychic link” between he and his ingeniously eccentric grandfather. _Painfully_ aware, Rick having had a giant hole shot straight through his torso that should have instantaneously killed him- but DIDN’T, due to the convenient locale.

Nobody dies on the Whirly-Dirly... though pain still registers loud and clear. Rick’s certainly did, so much so that Morty was damn near DEAFENED by the scream in his head all the way back on Earth.

It hadn’t lasted long, but was deeply traumatic nonetheless.

The connection, Rick claimed, had always _been_ and would always BE. It was **intrinsic** , like the complementary brainwaves that allowed any given Morty to serve as a sort of “cloaking device” for Ricks. Mortys just didn’t tend to realize this link was there, a permanent part of their genetic makeup... because Mortys were oblivious to all things that didn’t involve eating, sleeping, or their perpetually throbbing DICKS.

While Rick, for all his genius brainwaves were worth, had been hearing his emotionally fragile grandson’s unspoken soliloquies for far longer than he cared to admit.  Pretty much from day one, when the kid broke every bone from the waist down EXCEPT the one between his legs.

“W-why the actual FUCK were you moaning my name like that, Morty?” Rick asked him quietly, brow arching quizzically over a narrowed gaze as the kid’s face positively blazed in response. He leaned down over him, Morty suddenly realizing- with a fresh wave of anxiety- that the heated grinding was very much _intentional_ rather than a drunkenly clumsy loss of familial propriety.

“I... I guess I felt like I was in danger, Rick.” Morty lied in a subdued monotone, not wanting to set him off. Or MORE _‘_ off _’_ than he clearly already _was_. “I was dr-dreaming that something was hurting me and I called out to you for help, Rick, but you weren’t... you weren’t around.”

Rick’s eyes burned into Morty’s, gradually filling with some obscure emotion the kid didn’t quite recognize in him.  Something Rick, himself, might have been hard-pressed to define as seen through Morty’s wide and reflective orbs.

“But I WAS ‘around’, Morty.” He finally whispered after a lengthy silence had passed between them, breathing harder as he bit out every syllable. “I was right fucking THERE, Morty. _RIGHT BEHIND YOU_.

 **I** was the something ‘hurting’ you! Except y-YOU, Morty... well, you weren’t really ‘ _hurt_ ’ at all. WERE you?

Now TELL ME _WHY_ YOU WERE MOANING MY NAME!”

Morty was suddenly hurled back into it, head spinning and wide eyes meaningfully locking with Rick’s in a present tense positively  _made_ of TENSION as he spiraled uncontrollably into the dark and all-too-recent past. _Back into the dream_ , where Rick was violently shoving him down over the hull of his ship and slamming his cock so far up his virgin ass that Morty could fucking TASTE it with every ruthlessly passionate thrust. Where he was crying uncontrollably even as he begged Rick to never, EVER _stop_ fucking him.

Morty didn’t answer Rick’s loaded-gun question... posing one of his own, instead, as those wide and seemingly innocent eyes narrowed angrily upon the man.

“... H-how long have you been able to SEE my thoughts _as well_ , Rick?”

“ **AWHILE**.” Came the vaguely grim admission- a little too quickly for Morty’s liking, too HOSTILE, Rick flinching noticeably when it just sort of slipped out before he could think up a believable lie of his own.

“Awhile” was Rick-speak for “ALWAYS, _you little idiot_ ”.

Just like that, Morty was out of deep dark secrets. Out of excuses to go on behaving as though there was nothing wrong with him, with _them_ , with their entire RELATIONSHIP. Rick’s secrets were, however, still another story entirely. Morty realized as much when the man remained atop him- still mindlessly rutting against his hips with a look so painstakingly restrained and conflicted upon his face that Morty couldn’t quite quantify it, couldn’t identify any one underlying motive.

 He wasn’t even certain that Rick _realized_ what he was doing, anymore.

... Until his elder dropped the rest of the way down onto him, legs curling around Morty’s possessively to keep their lower extremities firmly pressed together as their lips collided in a volatile explosion of teeth and tongue. Rick- breath shuddering with his every effort- dragged the bedding out from between them before hastily shoving down his slacks. Morty followed his lead without so much as a hesitant thought- gasping as their hard, heated members met and Rick broke away to roughly bite at his neck.

“You really don’t get how fucked up this is, DO you?” Rick breathed roughly into his ear as Morty’s smaller body mirrored his every movement. “You have no earthly fucking IDEA, you stupid little...”

He reached down between them to briefly and callously stroke them both in one tight hand, drawing a wanton wail from the kid before repositioning himself- hips pumping violently to slide his length in between instinctively clenched cheeks with a heated groan.

“... you little ASSHOLE.” Rick concluded- slamming into him without warning or pretense, rearing up until they were nose-to-nose and screaming in the kid’s frightened face as he bottomed out inside him with one brutally powerful thrust of his hips.

Nerves flared to life inside the boy with every thick inch of penetrated flesh as Rick’s steely cock was driven inside him to the hilt... nerves Morty had never known were even there, like so many things as of late. He screamed incoherently back at the man as his legs were lifted up over narrow shoulders and Rick began pounding into him, hands clutching his upper thighs for a more controlled impact.

“You th-think I ‘don’t understand’ just how fucked up I am, DREAMING about this shit?” Morty challenged, meeting his every thrust as best he could in his limited position with pained little whimpers.

“Maybe... maybe not.” Rick grunted, speeding up as Morty clenched down around him. “Either way, you WILL before I’m done with you.”

He pulled out with a squelching POP, effortlessly lifting Morty up off the bed before carelessly dropping him back down onto his stomach and shoving his knees forward until his ass was sticking up invitingly in the air before him. Nails digging into bony little hips, he pumped the swollen head of his cock in and out of the blood-tinged little orifice hidden between smooth adolescent asscheeks.

“How’s this for fucked up?” He seethed, slowly pushing his cock a little deeper with every sharp snap of his hips. He was practically drooling on those cheeks as he watched his member gradually disappear inside him. He could feel Morty coming unhinged around it, a pleasant vibration around his shaft beckoning him onward.

Morty sobbed.

“What the fuck are you crying about, Morty?”

“You’re h-h- _hurting_ me!”

“So TELL ME TO FUCKING _STOP_ , if you don’t want it!” Rick roared. He froze then with his cock as far inside Morty as it could possibly go, his pelvic bones digging into abused little ass cheeks as he bared in as hard as he could to ensure maximum pain.

He bent over him then- hugging Morty to his chest as he spoke, voice dropping to a hiss, directly into his ear. “Go on and SAY IT, Morty. SAY YOU DON’T WANT ME this way!”

Morty’s breathing becoming erratically rapid and labored, he wrapped his arms around his pillow and buried his face in it to stifle himself... either refusing or incapable of saying anything more in that moment, much less meaning whatever might have come out in the heat of the moment.

It was maddening, Rick redoubling his efforts and fucking Morty’s ass as if to break the kid clean in half. Determined to break SOMETHING before he was done.

... And then he felt it happen. Felt Morty sobbing in earnest, felt the intense vibration of him screaming hysterically into the pillow as blood slowly pooled on the blanket beneath them.

W-w-WHY, Rick? Why are you doing this to me?!” He sobbed brokenly into his pillow a split-second before Rick triumphantly flipped him over onto his back again- dragging him down to the end of the bed by one ankle and shoving thighs, tinged a bright red, apart to kneel between them.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, Morty... but here’s a better one.” His fingers curled tightly around the kid’s shaft and squeezed, HARD. “Why are you MAKING me do this to you... huh? What the fuck is going on in that twisted little noggin, baby boy?”

Morty screamed as the weeping head of his dick was enrapt in velvety, wet heat- Rick groaning around it as he began sucking him off with rapidly mounting urgency. His tongue delved into the salty-slick slit at it’s peak before his hand vanished, taking Morty’s length all the way into his hot mouth and straight down his tight throat. He swallowed repeatedly as he pumped his own cock, unable to resist the urge.

“I’ll tell, Rick. I’ll t-tell mom EVERYTHING!”

Rick glared up into Morty’s swimming eyes, scoffing.

“Y-you do that, Morty.” He whispered upon pulling off of him, a dark smile spreading across his face. “You tell EVERYONE aaaaall about it.”

He went back to sucking Morty’s dick, pointedly maintaining intense eye-contact as he bobbed slowly up and down on him. Morty’s tears fell freely, face flushed scarlet as his breathing became shallow and shakier.

In an abrupt reversal of roles, he grabbed either side of the man’s head to keep him there and fucked violently up into Rick’s wicked mouth even as he continued begging him to stop... and then some.

“Fuck you, Rick.” He cursed, holding on tighter than Rick might’ve guessed him capable of doing. “You couldn’t- c-couldn’t just let me have this ONE thing, one lousy DREAM to myself. Fucking monster!”

He felt Rick struggle wildly atop his outstretched legs and finally exploded with a scream, pushing the man’s face down into his soft curls as cum gushed down the man’s tight throat. Felt him weaken little by little as he held him down to keep his air supply cut off.

Felt him go completely and utterly limp.

Morty screamed... the sharp sound of unhinged rage gradually transforming into one of profound grief as his bedroom door was nearly knocked straight off it’s hinges, hitting the wall behind it with the resounding THUD! of his own reckoning as Jerry stumbled into the room looking full-on FRANTIC.

They were busted, still naked and covered in Morty’s wild juices. Jerry had caught them in the act.

He’d caught MORTY, rather. Morty... mouth-fucking Rick’s fresh CORPSE.

Jerry came to stand half-in and half-out of the room as he absorbed the scene with mounting awkwardness noticeably splattered across his face like a fresh splash of blood-red paint.

“Christ, Morty!” He griped with an awkwardly charged grimace of disgusted shock. “Ever heard of closing and LOCKING the goddamn door of you’re gonna rub one out?!”

“Ever heard of waiting for a goddamn answer before bursting, UNINVITED, through a closed fucking door... _DICK_?!” Morty snapped back- suddenly sounding, even to himself, nothing _like_ himself at all. Sounding more like the man lying dead between his splayed legs. His father would know, based on those two factors alone, that Morty was completely out of his mind. His MURDEROUS fucking mind. A danger not only to himself, but all those around him. Like Rick, he’d be going away... quite possibly for GOOD. Killer kids were beyond what might be understood in the lesser minds of most.

He waited, on pins and needles, for the gravity of the situation to hit his father. For panic, intervention, CONDEMNATION.

Jerry didn’t seem to be experiencing ANY of those things, however... his expression nothing more or less than incredibly UNCOMFORTABLE as he wracked his feeble brain for words that simply wouldn’t come.

“IIIIIIIIII’m just gonna let you get back to your... you know.” He mumbled, averting his eyes as he stepped slowly backward and out of the room. “Your WHATEVER the hell this is. Just try to maybe keep it down with that creepy-ass voice, kiddo.

... It’s freaking your mom out, is all. Summer too.”

Morty’s mouth hung silently open in a perfect little ‘O’ of confusion as he slowly nodded his head in half-assed agreement, heart racing neck-and-neck with his addled mind well after Jerry closed the door behind him and made a hasty retreat.

He blindly shoved Rick’s dead weight off of him, letting him drop to the floor and frowning when the sound of brittle bones hitting it proved... _underwhelming_ , somehow.

His gaze reluctantly dropped to zoom in on the source of the soft thud... anxiety mounting to hit heights previously unimaginable as it landed upon a lumpy bundle of nothing more or less incriminating than his own bulky bedspread entangled with random splashes of sweat drenched blue and yellow, his own hap-hazardously discarded clothing.

No body. No ‘RICK’, at all.

Just the cum-stained remnants of a nearly forgotten nightmare he wasn’t entirely certain had ended as a gruff voice echoed ominously in his head.

(... _“You reeeeelly don’t know how FUCKED UP you are... **DO** you, Morty?”_ )

 

***

 

Beth and Jerry- even Summer- found themselves walking on eggshells whenever Morty entered whichever room of the house they happened to be occupying at any given time... which happened less and less over time, the kid becoming more and more withdrawn.

If they occasionally overheard him engaging himself in yet another seemingly one-sided argument, voice intermittently dropping an octave or TEN despite the persistence of his distinctively childish stutter, they left well enough alone.

 

***

 

“Morty is, well... _special_.” Beth explained in a hushed voice as the state appointed psychotherapist, back-to her, observed the pitifully distraught teenage boy through his own slightly cracked office door. “He’s incredibly FRAGILE right now, and he’s-“

“ _In good hands_.” Dr. Sanchez interrupted with a clipped but reassuring little nod of understanding as he turned to face a tense Beth and Jerry. “No worries ‘Mom’, ‘Dad’... whatever’s happening to your boy, I’ll get to the _BOTTOM_ of it.”

He watched the Smiths disappear around the corner at the end of the hall leading to his office before slipping silently inside and closing that heavy, noise-cancelling door with an inaudible whoosh and turning on his new patient with a predatory little smile.

“I w-warned you not to leave me out, Morty.” Rick whispered huskily as he crossed the room and came to stand behind him, the ghost of a threat breathing directly into one of the kid’s anxiously reddening ears as he leaned in close from behind. Deft hands digging roughly into the back of his seat, he spoke with a cryptic sense of profundity and mused over just how far he could still get into Morty’s head.

... Into **MORTY**.

“ _NEVER_ _leave me out_...”

It was the sound of absolutely nothing at all that had Morty visibly trembling on the edge of his seat as random articles of clothing, seemingly of their own accord, proceeded to strip themselves of his body piece-by-piece.

“You’re here now because you gotta get our shit together.

Aaaaaaaaaall our SHIT, Morty.

... So it’s _**TOGETHER**_.”


End file.
